Seriously

I can never take you seriously

I can never take you home or

To the market either

But, mostly, I can never take you seriously.

All I want is to make nonsense with you

Sweet, silent, noisy nonsense

The kind that leaves no room for

Cryptic, riddled questions or

            Untangled horizons.

You make me want to throw all my work

Into the sea

Where it will churn in the writhing watery depths

beneath us

Promising me, with a gurgling sigh,

That I will never do anything great

I will never do anything worth doing

            And isn’t that plenty enough.

What have words ever done for us anyway?

Symbols on a page, stuttering gongs

Resounding at the event horizon

Of human hands and tongues that heaven knows are

Better suited for more godful things.

And when I reach for yours

I am not searching for your meandering

Lifeline under my fingers

Or the taste of your throbbing pulse pressed against

 my own.

I reach

because we already are;

I already am

And so

are

you.